Jesse came screaming out of the bathroom, slamming the door and leaning heavily against it. Glancing at the others, he started for the stairs.
“Max, you said Room 101?”
Room 101 was a small, dingy space with a dozen gray stalls, toilets, and sinks. A dead spider lay in a dusty bathtub, spotlighted by a lone bare bulb hanging from a mildewed ceiling. The walls were lined with rusty lockers. Peeling back a shower curtain, Rolf poked his head inside a stall and quickly turned to the others.
“I’ll go second,” he volunteered.
“I loved that other bathroom,” sniffed Connor, stepping past Rolf and turning the faucet.
By the time the boys left the bathroom, the Manse had become a much busier place. Shouts of greeting rang through the halls. There was a constant racket of luggage and doors slamming. Arriving back at their floor, Max found the hallway filled with suitcases and duffel bags as Second Years lingered about, getting reacquainted and comparing class schedules. But when Max and the others stepped out into the hall, the conversations abruptly stopped.
“Oh no,” breathed Connor as the first yells started.
“Tadpoles! Tadpoles!”
The First Years ran a screaming gauntlet toward their rooms, past the older students who yelled and threw wadded packing tape in a stinging whirlwind of flying objects.
Max practically dived into his room as bits of cardboard and wadded tape came hurtling after him. David was on the upper level, sitting on the floor with his back against his bed.
“Terrifying, isn’t it?” he said. “I went to pee and they chased me back here.” He added thoughtfully, “I forgot I still need to pee.”
“That’s not so bad,” Max panted. “I almost got killed by Jimmy this morning before a Sixth Year told me that we have to use the bathroom in Room 101.”
“Why do we have to do that?”
“You’ll know when you see Room 101,” sighed Max, flopping onto his bed.
After making their way across the bustling campus, Max and David emerged from the Sanctuary tunnel just in time to see a herd of glossy black horses thunder across the clearing. The horses were ridden bareback by a mix of older boys and girls who laughed and shouted to one another as they cantered past the lagoon and up toward the dunes. Several students sat under the palms, tossing live fish to a pair of gargantuan seals that had dragged themselves from the lagoon onto the sandy beach.
“Do you want to help me feed Maya?” asked David. “It shouldn’t be too bad—she only eats melon, nuts, and grasses.”
“No,” said Max, “I have to feed Nick tonight and I don’t even know what he eats. I’d better read my book. If I mess it up, YaYa will probably eat me.”
Taking the lymrill booklet from his pocket, Max waved good-bye and started toward the lagoon. The seals were gone, but he saw Kettlemouth and Lucia sunning near a palm. He waved and circled around to the other end, settling on a low, grassy patch dotted with small white flowers. For a moment, he just lay back and watched the towering clouds scoot by overhead. He peeled off his shirt and slid out of his shoes to lie barefoot. Closing his eyes, he let the sun warm his face. Soon, he was fast asleep, entertaining a strange dream in which his father had his mother declared deceased so he could marry Mum, who promptly turned him into a casserole.
Max awoke suddenly as something bumped him. Opening his eyes, he saw that he was sandwiched between two shiny, rippling mounds. He yelped and jumped high into the air before racing away from two twenty-foot seals that had slid up on either side of him. He heard a giggle and whirled to see a girl snapping photos. She lowered the camera, revealing the prettiest face he had ever seen, with long brown hair, bright blue eyes, and faint freckles dotting each sunburned cheek.
Max was horrified.
“Gotcha!” she crowed. “Was wondering when you’d wake up! That’ll make the newspaper for sure. Yearbook, too, probably.”
“Awful, Julie. Shame on you,” chastised one of the seals, rolling over on its side. “We three very peaceful, just now.”
“Oh, I couldn’t resist,” the girl said with a shrug. Max blinked at her dumbly. “How often do you get a First Year surrounded by two selkies during his midmorning nap?”
“Apologize, you should,” sniffed the other seal with an agitated ripple.
“Oh, okay. I’m sorry…eh, what’s your name?” She paused, raising her eyebrows expectantly.
“Max. Max McDaniels. It’s okay. It just startled me.” He turned and raised a hand to the two seals, which were now blinking at him. “Sorry.”
“Understandable,” rumbled the selkie. “You were sleeping. We give you shock. I’m Helga and this is my sister, Frigga. Scandinavian selkies. You look so comfortable, we thought we join you and sun our blubber.” She smacked her flippers on her belly with a loud slap.
“Well, I’m Julie Teller,” offered the girl, putting away her camera. “I’m a Stage One Mystic and head photographer for the paper—a Third Year,” she added, seeing the look of confusion on Max’s face. He had no idea what to say. All he knew was that he wanted her to keep talking.
“Is it okay with you if I use this in the paper?” she asked.
“Uh, sure. I guess so,” said Max, reaching for his shirt and suddenly feeling very young and scrawny.
“Thanks,” she said brightly. “Where are you from?”
“Chicago.”
“Ooh! Cool city. My family and I visited there once a couple years ago. I’m from Melbourne.”
Max gaped at her.
“That’s in Australia,” she added.
Max nodded, feeling stupid. They looked at each other for several moments.
“Well,” Julie chirped. “Got my shot for the morning. Good to meet you, Max. I’ll see you later.”
Before he could speak, Julie was gone, walking quickly toward the hedge tunnel and pausing to greet Hannah the goose, who was waddling with her goslings toward Max. Max’s attention was interrupted by a solid thump on the ground nearby.
“I go get a bite. Nice to meet you, Max,” rumbled Frigga, turning to shimmy down to the water.
“Frigga!” Helga exclaimed, rippling after her sister. “We fed one hour ago. This must stop; you getting huge!”
The two erupted in a series of angry seal barks before disappearing smoothly below the surface. Max felt a peck on his calf and turned to see Hannah and her goslings crowded around him.
“Hello again,” said Hannah, sounding very flustered. “Word around the Sanctuary is that you’re free for a little babysitting. Is this true?”
“Oh. Well, I guess so,” said Max. “Lymrills are nocturnal and—”
“Wonderful! I’ve got to get my down fluffed properly and one of the dryads offered to do it for a song. You can watch them for a couple of hours, can’t you?”
Hannah turned and swept a wing over the goslings, who honked and bopped into one another.
“This is Susie, Bobbie, Willie, Millie, Hank, Honk, Nina, Tina, Macy, Lillian, Mac, and Little Baby Ray. Goslings, you behave yourselves for Max. Be back in a few, dear.”
Buffeting Max’s leg appreciatively with her wing, Hannah waddled back toward the forest. Max’s eyes followed her helplessly as the goslings hopped onto his feet and began pecking his shins with their sharp little bills.
He spent two hours with the goslings, letting them jump up and down and run on his body as he lay in the grass and tried unsuccessfully to read his booklet. Every half hour, he would take them down to the lagoon, wading in and playing with them as they swam about the reeds in happy little circles. The water was warm, but every several seconds Max could feel a strong, cool current hint at greater depths. Older students waved and laughed when they saw Max had been drafted into babysitting service. The goslings demanded constant attention, and Max was relieved to see Hannah return.